The Talk
by Gaasyendietha
Summary: Not that one.


Artemis Fowl Sr. reclined in worn leather arm-chair in the main parlour, trying very hard to ignore the antics of his fair-haired son. The young boy had, once again, managed to "lose" his trousers, and had taken it upon himself to perform a little dance for his purposefully inattentive father. The man had long since given up any hope of convincing Beckett to find some clothes, and had instead buried his face in a book.

In the periphery of his vision was the doorway, through which he saw his wife enter in a rather flustered state. Frowning, he placed his novel on the arm of his chair and raised his gaze to hers, arching a questioning eyebrow.

"Something wrong, darling?"

Angeline's eyes grew wide for a moment, then she nodded slowly, her face contorting ever so slightly in a way that her husband recognized as holding back tears. Her eyes flicked to their son, who was blissfully unaware of this mostly silent exchange and was at the moment twirling around in the middle of the room, arms spread wide. Artemis Sr. caught the look, and nodded to show he understood.

"Beckett, that was a lovely dance. Perhaps you should go show it to Marie?"

The boy stopped twirling and crossed his arms. "But daddy, it's not finished yet!"

"Beckett, sweetie, mommy and daddy need to talk. Besides, we already know how great a dancer you are, but your nanny hasn't ever seen you perform! I bet she would love it if you showed her." Angeline spoke softly, trying to keep the tremor out of her voice.

"Oh," said Beckett. "Okay. But I'll finish it for you later!"

His parents smiled. "Sure, son," said his father. "Maybe with some pants?"

"No pants!" The three-year-old exclaimed, running out of the room before either of them tried to force him into some.

"Oh, well," Artemis sighed. "It doesn't hurt to try." His wife smiled weakly at him, and he decided not to waste another moment on jokes.

"So, what's the matter? It's got something to do with Arty, doesn't it? Running off to sell his world saving idea to those environmentalists like that, any number of things could go wrong." He spoke lightly to conceal his mounting fear; he didn't know what his son had gotten up to in his absence, or even since his return, but with all things considered it was highly likely that his eldest had made a few enemies over the years. And enemies of any Fowl were bound to be highly dangerous.

Angeline sunk into a sofa across from him and let her head fall into her hands. "Yes, it does. But not the way you think. It's...he's...Timmy, he's got some kind of psychosis."

"A...psychosis?" He was at once relieved and imbued with a new kind of fear. Artemis was not dead. _No, not dead_, he thought. _Just crazy. _"What do you mean? Does it have a name?"

She nodded dumbly. "Atlantis Complex. That's what Butler told me. It's not a...not a human disease," she said, so quietly that her husband could barely hear her. Even then he was not sure he had heard correctly. He _couldn't_ have heard correctly. How could his son have developed an inhuman mental condition?

A brief pause, and then: "If it isn't human, what is it?"

Angeline's head sunk lower.

"_Fairy," _she whispered.

"...Excuse me?"

Her head lifted, revealing two very red-rimmed eyes and lips that trembled as they formed the word again.

"Fairy," she repeated. "It's a fairy disease. Timmy, he went to the Arctic to deal with _fairies."_

The older Artemis stared at his wife, struggling to take in her words. When they finally registered, they seemed to reverberate throughout his mind with a dull _clang_, bouncing off the insides of his skull until the echoes condensed into one clear thought:

_Oh my God, Angeline's lost it._

Quickly realizing the impact of what she'd said on her husband's mind, Angeline hurried to assure him that she was not, in fact, the one in need of professional mental care.

"I know how it sounds, I really do. I wouldn't believe it myself if I hadn't seen them first hand - one of them possessed me, back when I got sick and you all thought I was dying. I made Artemis tell me the whole story after that, and..." she trailed off, noticing that Artemis Senior's facial expression had switched from his "you've grown three heads and turned purple" look of shock to a glassy-eyed, slack-faced stare.

"Timmy?"

No response.

"Timmy!"

"Hm?"

She sighed heavily. "Timmy, we're going to visit Artemis in the...in the fairy clinic. They're treating him now, and they're sending someone up to fetch us. I've already packed."

"What? Angeline, honey -" shaking off his immobility, he stood up and crossed to where his wife sat. Taking her hands in his, kneeling in front of her, he did his best to keep his facial features calm and under control. "Fairies...they're not real. I think you might...might need to see..." his voice broke, and he couldn't meet her eyes.

"Timmy..." Angeline withdrew her fingers and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "I _know_ it's hard to believe. I would think I'm crazy too, if I were in your shoes. But you just have to be patient - they're coming to pick us up, and then you'll see that I'm telling you the truth."

He tried to smile supportively, but he couldn't quite manage it.

"How long until they get here?" He asked instead, rising from the floor to sit down beside her. She frowned.

"I'm not sure, actually. I told Butler to tell them to call when they were ten minutes away - "

Suddenly, as if her words carried some unseen force behind them, her phone rang. Startled, she fumbled it out of her pocket, not failing to notice her husband's disbelieving stare. She put it to her ear.

"Hello? Yes, this is Angeline. Yes, we're ready. What? My husband. Of course he's coming, Artemis is his son too. Thank you. Yes, we'll be at the door. Goodbye." Clicking the phone shut, she turned to Artemis Sr. and smiled sadly. "We had better get our things."

"Angeline - "

"Just watch and see, darling. They're almost here, and then you'll have all the proof you need."

She stood up, tugging her husband's hand in a gesture that said: "follow me." Together they walked into the foyer, where a servant was waiting with their bags.

"You've let the nanny know that we'll be gone for a few days?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Thank you." Flashing him a small, slightly wavering smile, she went to retrieve their coats from a side closet. Artemis Senior helped her into hers and offered to take her luggage as well, but she shook her head. Reaching for their bags, they walked towards the main doors - followed closely by the servant, who opened them just before they reached them. Sensing the negative atmosphere hanging over the pair like a storm cloud, he gave the Fowl parents a sympathetic look and a quiet "good luck" as they stepped out into the chill September air. They took a seat on the steps as the doors swung closed behind them.

"Where are the fairies taking us, again?"

"I don't really know. Artemis says that the fairy capital is called 'Haven', but other than that I haven't a clue as to where he might be."

"They have a whole city? Why has nobody found them before now?" He asked, almost incredulously. Angeline chuckled.

"It's miles underground."

"Oh."

So it was that, nine and a half minutes later, they were perched side by side upon the manor steps when the invisible shuttle landed on the gravel drive. Neither of them noticed a thing until the shield was switched off, at which point Artemis Senior gave a start and leapt to his feet. They grabbed the handles of their suitcases as the door opened and a walkway extended from the fairy vehicle, allowing a tiny figure to beckon them inside.

"Just how did our son _meet_ these creatures?" Artemis asked his wife, eyes wide. She laughed, but the sound was struck through with a sombre undertone.

"It's a very long story," she replied.

"I suspect that this trip will be long enough for you to at least start it," he said.

"Most likely. Well..." she said, taking his hand. "Are we ready?"

"As we'll ever be," he smiled down at her. Without further hesitation, they started up the walkway; luggage wheels bouncing on the footholds behind them.

* * *

_A/N: I hope you like your endings served with a generous helping of cheese._

_...I haven't had much practice dealing with Artemis's parents, and I'm fairly certain that it shows. A lot. Oh well. (I kind of based Beckett's behaviour off of my brother's, when he was that age. Lots of impromptu dancing, losing clothes and refusing to be groomed.)_

_So! This is for the *cough*many*cough* people who seem to think that Artemis Senior _still_ doesn't have a clue about fairies, even after The Last Guardian. Didn't you guys notice how, at the end of The Atlantis Complex, Angeline _says_ she's going to tell him everything?_

_No?_

_I suppose he just wasn't going to wonder where his son disappeared to on a weekly basis when he was going for therapy sessions in Haven, then._

_Oh, you silly people._

_Silly, silly people._

_Hope you enjoyed the story, silly people c:  
_

_Oh yeah, the disclaimer: I would hope that anybody perusing a site entitled "**fan**fiction" could guess that the authors here are using the property of the original authors, but whatever - I don't own Artemis Fowl. If I did, Hartemis would probably be canon right now.  
_


End file.
